


bringer of war

by lilyvalley



Series: The Death of Marlene McKinnon [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood, Death, Gen, Injury, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23773792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyvalley/pseuds/lilyvalley
Summary: Marlene McKinnon is going to die today.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Marlene McKinnon
Series: The Death of Marlene McKinnon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/191654
Kudos: 6





	bringer of war

**Author's Note:**

> PART I of THE DEATH OF MARLENE MCKINNON
> 
> we're restarting this series! i'll leave the old versions of (now) PARTS 2 & 3 up for now, but will probably rewrite them because it's been 6 years and I hate anything I wrote older than a few years ago, haha.

Marlene McKinnon is going to die today.

She is just an Auror trainee. But in times of war, even trainees go into the field. They are not ready, Moody reminds them, not even close. But a war calls for soldiers, untrained or otherwise.

At least Mars is a martial wonder – DADA had been her top N.E.W.T. by far. President of the Dueling Club. The first in her year to master nonverbal spells. 

But she is young and bold. A dyed-in-the-wool Gryffindor even now, three years out of school. Mars is the first to charge even when she shouldn’t, and she has the scars to show for it.

(Once, in her fifth year, she’d taken a bludger to the face. Fucking Rowle.) She’d thought it would be the worst injury of her life. That memory pales to the wounds she’s collected now.

 _Constant vigilance_ , Moody growls. He _Episkey_ s away minor scratches, shoves potions down her throat for anything worse. When it’s really bad, they’ll see a Healer. (Now you are only brought to a Healer when you’re about to die.)

Mars loves her job, even when it almost kills her. There’s a ragged scar across her skull that may never go away. ( _Relashio_ _._ ) A dark line on her forearm that may be Healed but refuses to fade. (A violet-flamed curse, unknown.) Her third rib’s been cracked so often the Skele-Gro won’t work anymore. (Too many times to count.)

But Sunday is her day off, and it is not her Auror work that kills her.

* * *

Marlene McKinnon is going to die today.

Their Gryffindor class has a particular bond, partly from seven years of interdating. Mostly from a shared defiance to live in a world fraught with injustices.

Lily is the one who tells them about the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore’s vigilante militia. They all sign up without hesitation, even bringing along some of their other friends. Dorcas, her partner trainee, Marlene’s favorite Hufflepuff. Fabian, a Ravenclaw, twin to their fellow lion Gideon. (And Marlene’s ex.) Benjy, another Ravenclaw. Too taciturn for Marlene’s tastes, but Dorcas vouches for him, and that’s enough.

They come to know the rest of the motley organization well. Outside of their class, most are strangers—save Moody, of course. But Mars grows a soft spot for Arabella Figg. The older woman can do no magic, but she might be the toughest of them all.

The classmates work well together, naturally. After all, their long friendship makes for easy cover stories. Dress shopping with Lily for reconnaissance across London. A girl’s tea with Alice and Mary for investigating a murder. A cousin catch-up with James for following a suspected Death Eater.

A fortnight prior, someone had insisted on a picture. (Doge, most likely. He had a thing for reminiscing.) The photo was a nice document of their small and mighty crew, and Marlene tucks her copy into her wallet. (With a sly smile, Sirius calls her a sentimentalist, and Mars swats him.)

But today Dumbledore has no need of her. It is not Order business that kills her.

* * *

Marlene McKinnon is going to die today.

Even amongst Gryffindors, she takes unnecessary risks. Foolhardy to a fault, McGonagall had said once. A badge she’d worn with pride, even when she fell in love with a wolf. Remus had tried to stop her, but Mars can be stopped by no one.

Still, he worries too much to let her stay with him during his changes. “I have my boys,” he tells her, firm. On this much, she relents. He doesn’t tell her much about these nights, but she knows they are violent by necessity. All four of the Marauder boys emerge after a full moon scrapped and bruised. Even out of necessity, Mars cannot hurt the man she loves. (Sirius is right, she is a sentimentalist.)

So before the sun sets, they spend the day together, languid and in love. He frets at her latest injury. She kisses away his worries. They laugh at some Muggle film Lily’s sent them—three women getting absurd revenge at their boss. Around six, she leaves him, though the sun is still out—the weekly McKinnon family dinner. 

“I love you,” she tells him, holding his face with her ringed left hand. “Stay safe.”

Remus survives the night, as he always does. He has never put Marlene in danger. It is not her werewolf boyfriend that kills her.

* * *

Marlene McKinnon is going to die today.

Mum and Dad had instituted the family dinner once their eldest had moved out. It was a thinly veiled way to bring their grown up little birds back to the empty nest, but none of them minded.

Their partners are welcome, of course, but tonight it has ended up with just the McKinnons. (Remus has the moonies, and Delilah’s girlfriend has work.) Marlene loves how their family has grown, but this is nice too. With unhurried ease, they swap old inside jokes. The little sisters tease Cailean about his third career change. All of them fawn over Delilah’s stellar Quidditch season. 

Marlene shares what she can about her own work but talks not a whit of the Order. They’d approve, she knows, but it’s not worth the danger. The less people who know she’s Order, the better. Her family may not be gossips, but they are civilians. She won’t have their blood on her hands.

Dad has just brought out dessert when the door blasts open.

It’s so fast Marlene leaps up by instinct, casting shields on reflex but it’s not enough. Eight of them flood her childhood home, masked and cloaked and deadly. A green curse hits Dad, who drops with a thud, but Marlene has no time to mourn.

“Run!” she screams. Cailean is nimble enough to drag shell-shocked Delilah upstairs. Mum springs up next to her, the two of them augmenting their shields. They share a look – two against eight is no fight. Mum mouths “I love you” before rebounding the shield on the group and darting upstairs. Marlene blasts at the two closest to her and sprints through the living room. _Split them up._

She only hopes she’ll draw enough of them. She doesn’t look as she flings more hexes behind her. _Reducto_! on the doorway, _Impedimenta_ through a hall. When she turns back, there are three on her heels. She throws up a shield right before the three curses reach her, then she counters with an _Expulso_! The first dodges the blue stream but the blast hits his friends, knocking them back.

Now one on one, she races backwards, hoping to reach the games room in time. There awaits five brooms, one for each McKinnon – whichever of them are left. The duel so far is a draw: her violet stream hits his red; her gold sparks bounce off his green. They are well-matched, but Marlene has begun to read his pattern. Her next jinx anticipates him. He dodges, but not enough, and his Death Eater mask flies off to reveal her assailant.

“Travers?” She laughs with recognition, surer now she will succeed. An old schoolmate and a bitter enemy, but barely a threat. She’d always bested pathetic, whiny Travers in duels and skirmishes. She’d been surprised by his new Death Eater tricks, but she knows how to beat him now. She easily dodges his next two spells then rebounds her own, which blasts him back into the hall.

“Come to kill me, have you, Travers?” she laughs. He flings back a curse while still prone, and she leaps over it with nimble ease. He growls.

“We both know you’ll never get me,” she taunts, as he rises again. He hisses a _Crucio_ _!_ with sharp aim; she ducks, the curse whizzing above her by mere centimeters. 

She hops back up, her wand slashing with precise flourish. “I’m just glad I'll be the one to send you to Azka—“

“ _Sectumsempra_ _!_ ”

Travers strikes her true, the white beam searing her flesh. _Spare the chitchat_ , Moody’s voice echoes, as she falls to her knees, gasping. Scarlet gashes bloom on her torso. The blood loss is fast, too fast. For the first time today, Marlene realizes she might die.

Travers walks to her with slow, deliberate steps. She feels herself fading as she struggles to lift her wand arm to do something, anything. He disarms her with ease, then stomps down on her wand hand with a horrible crunch. Her wounded cry elicits a horrible smile on his sallow face, but all she can do is bleed and bleed and bleed.

Leering over her, Travers whispers a fatal promise. “I am the last thing you will ever see in your wretched life, Marlene McKinnon." Her wand is so far away, and her weak fingers grasp at air. To inch forward, her unbroken hand scrabbles through the thick crimson puddle of her own blood. Travers does not even bother to stop her.

Then she stills, unmoving, her blue eyes frozen with terrible awareness. 

And just like that, Marlene McKinnon is dead.


End file.
